The Search for Quinn
by wonderland-bliss
Summary: Twenty-year-old Danielle Quinn was abandoned by her brother Joey when she was six and has spent the last 2 years searching for him. But when she finds him, it is far beyond how she imagined, and to top it all, she unexpectedly becomes involved in one of the Miami Metro homicide department's biggest cases. Set during season 5.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter!**

* * *

"Hey, Dani," eighteen-year-old Joseph "Joey" Quinn greeted his six-year-old sister in her room. "All ready for bed?"

"I don't wanna go to bed yet," Danielle "Dani" Quinn pouted. "Can we read another story?"

"Mom didn't read one with you earlier?"

"She did, but I want to read another one. With you. Please?"

He groaned internally as his little sister gave him those sad puppy dog eyes that always worked on his parents. "I don't think Mom or Dad'll be too happy if I do that."

_More like Dad'll give me another beating_, he mentally corrected. Joseph Quinn didn't understand what made his parents (his father, in particular) give his little sister the love and care he never got at her age. But out of everyone in their family, it was Dani he loved and cared for the most. His mother cared about him, he knew, but she often turned a blind eye whenever his father gave him a beating, and that had been going on since he was seven, and the beatings only came when his father didn't get what he wanted, which happened to be a lot of the time these days. Whenever he'd seek solace in his mom, she never believed that her husband could be anything other than kind or loving; where he would have received a beating at her age, Dani would receive a new book or toy, or new clothes from their mother. Despite the clear favoritism they toward his little sister, she was the very reason he hadn't left sooner.

"I won't tell," she shook her head. "And we can whisper so they won't hear…"

"You've got a big day tomorrow," he placed a hand on her small shoulder. "Am I gonna walk you again, just like last year?"

"I don't wanna go," she shook her head, bringing her knees to her chin. "I'm scared. I'm not big and strong like you and can't fight off the bullies."

"Hey, listen to me," Quinn moved to sit next to her on her bed, placing a muscular arm around her. "Just 'cause you're not as big as everyone else doesn't mean you can't be strong. Got it?"

"I guess," she shrugged. "Why do bullies pick on me anyway?"

"A lotta times, they're pretty unhappy," he replied. "There might be somethin' else goin' on that you don't know about. So to them, if they make someone else unhappy, it makes them feel better because then they're not the only ones that feel that way. They could even be lonely and just need a friend, but they don't know how to express that."

"So I should try to be their friend?" she frowned, confused.

"If they haven't tried to seriously hurt you, yeah, sure," he nodded. _If only someone could've told me that at your age_.

"And if they do?"

"If they try to hurt you, you beat the living heck outta them," he said in a serious voice with the straightest face he could muster, only to be met with wide, slightly fearful six-year-old brown eyes.

"I'm kidding," he smiled, shaking his head. "Really though, protect yourself first and foremost, and tell an adult right away."

"Yes, Joey," she nodded.

"Atta girl," he nodded back in approval before looking down at the floor.

* * *

_"You fought tooth and _nail_ to keep me before I was born," he'd told her. "You told me so yourself. Why the fuck can't you fight for me now?"_

_"There's nothing to fight for, Hon," she'd respond with a sad smile, but her eyes told him she knew, and that pissed him off more than anything. "Your father is who he is. There's nothing I can do about that."_

_"That's _bullshit_," he roared. "You know what he does to me, and you just _stand _there and let it happen_. _That makes you just as fucking terrible as he is. I _hate _you. Both of you."_

_"Joey," she began, tears forming in her eyes._

_"Fuck off," he growled in a low voice. _

_"Please," she tried again moving toward him to grab his hand._

_"I said _fuck off_!" he snarled, shoving her in the heat of the moment, forgetting how easily she lost his balance. _

_His mouth opened in horror as he rushed to her side to catch her, but not before she hit her head on the countertop. _

_"I'm sorry…" tears formed in his eyes. He helped her off the floor, kissing her forehead and hugging her fiercely. "I'm so sorry, Mom…"_

* * *

The next morning, Quinn placed a hand on his sister's shoulder before she headed off. "Dani…" _Come on, Joey, just cut to the chase and get it over with. _It wasn't going to be easy breaking the news to her, and a part of him wasn't sure he wanted to. But the longer he stayed, the worse his father got. Ever since getting laid off, John Quinn's alcoholism only grew worse, his temper shorter, and his beatings stronger and more frequent. But when it came to Dani, it never mattered how much alcohol he'd had to drink; when it came to her, somehow he always managed to put on a "good father" mask.

It certainly wasn't going to be fair to her; he'd miss out on watching her grow up, make her own mistakes, and most of all he'd miss being there for her whenever she fucked up. But when his mom, Janice, made it very clear that she wouldn't support him about his father, that was the last straw.

"What is it?" Dani frowned as her big brother bent down to her height and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm goin' to be goin' away for a little while," he breathed.

"On a trip?" she asked, her voice suddenly perky. "Can I come?"

"No," he whispered, but his voice broke slightly as his heart burst into a million pieces. "You gotta stay in school."

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure," his voice continued cracking.

"Well…where are you going?"

"Someplace far." Another vague answer. Truth be told, even _he _wasn't quite sure where was he was going. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but it had come to the point where he had to look out for his own safety and wellbeing. He'd thought of telling someone, but he had nobody to back him up; it was his word against his parents'. His sister was blissfully unaware, and for that he envied her. He hoped for her sake it stayed that way. The last thing he wanted was for her to go through what he had.

"But you'll be back, right?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," he lied, pushing away the guilt that suddenly arose in him.

"What about Mom and Dad?"

"I'll tell them," he assured her as he engulfed her in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you, though."

"Me too," she nodded into his shoulder, and both siblings exchanged silent tears.

"I love you, Dani. No matter how long I'm gone, don't ever forget that, you hear me?"

"I won't," she assured him. "I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer (once again): I do not own Dexter, only any original characters for the purposes of this story!**

* * *

Fourteen years passed, and he never came. He never said where he was going, so she had no way of tracking him down; at least, not until she had enough money for a private investigator. Danielle Quinn sighed, taking out the one picture that never left her wallet: her last picture with him. It was the day of her ballet recital when she was six, just after her performance. He and her parents were the first ones backstage, with Joey greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek as her mom took a picture. As busy as he got, Joey would never miss any of her shows or recitals. Even when she was certain she was the worst ballerina in the room with her ungraceful moves and rigid arm posture, he'd stand up, smile and clap as though she was destined for the Royal Academy of Dance.

"Happy birthday, Joey," she smiled wistfully, lightly stroking her picture. "I know you're still out there somewhere, and if you won't come back for me, then I'll find _you_."

"After all these years, you still miss him?" She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, that she'd completely disregarded her best friend and roommate, Madison noisily slamming the door to their dorm on her way back from her evening class.

"Every day," she nodded, tucking her shoulder-length brown hair behind one ear. "Wouldn't you, though? If that were your brother, I mean."

"Sure, I guess. But did you ever think maybe he didn't want to come back?" Madison braced herself for any backlash, but she hated seeing her best friend so down all the time. It came and went, but it was clear how much it had affected her over the years.

"It's…crossed my mind," she admitted. "Doesn't make any sense, though. He _loved _me. He told me so himself."

"How old were you when he left? Six, right?"

"Yeah, six…"

"So you were _six_. If you had a six-year-old sibling, would _you_ tell them you were running away and never coming back and break their little six-year-old heart?"

"You're right," she conceded. "He probably had his reasons, but he could've tried to call or send a postcard or something! I mean, with technology these days, he could've tracked me down or hired someone to do it for him."

"The way you plan to do for him? Dani, listen," Madison kicked off her sandals and plopped herself on Dani's bed. "I'm sure he could've, and _would've_, but whatever reason he had must have been pretty serious if you haven't heard from him by now."

"Well wherever he is, I hope he's happy."

"Did you ever think about asking your parents?"

"My mom refuses to talk about him," Dani shook her head. "Says she doesn't know why he'd just leave like that, but I think that's bullshit. I could see it in her eyes. She knows something."

"So get it out of her," Madison shrugged as though it were the most obvious solution in the world.

"If it were that simple, don't you think I would've done that by now?"

"Right. _Duh_," the blonde let out a laugh to hide her embarrassment. "And your dad? Oh, wait…"

"Yeah…" Dani brought a hand to the area on her stomach where her father used to punch her to let out his anger.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay, Mads," the brunette smiled at her friend, "he can't hurt me anymore."

"When you first told me what he used to do to you, I honestly didn't believe you," Madison admitted. Dani didn't open up about her past right away, or in general. They'd mostly kept to themselves until their second semester at the University of Miami, when she'd dragged Dani to a house party and Dani was her designated driver, albeit unwillingly. Even then, it had taken an entire semester before the lightly tanned girl – little by little – finally opened up to her.

"Why?" Dani asked.

"I mean," Madison answered. "You could've let it win, let yourself play victim for the rest of your life. But instead of using it as an excuse to do stupid shit the way some weak pussy would, _you_ rose above it, and now you're at an _amazing _university near the best city in Florida! And did I mention you're a biochem major? And kicking _ass _at it like it's nobody's business?"

"I haven't gotten to the core classes yet," Dani smiled, shaking her head. "Thanks, though. I guess I could've turned out a lot worse."

"I hate to stay on the subject, and this is kind of reaching, but maybe your dad is part of the reason your brother left," the blonde went on. "I mean, he left your mom and dad, too. Chances are, they played a pretty big part in his decision."

"Now you see why I have to find him," Dani swiveled around in her chair to face her.

"And if he doesn't want anything to do with you?"

"I just want to know why he left," she shrugged, though that was far from the truth. It was one thing to grow up without a sibling, but to grow up with one only for them to abandon you and lie about it with no explanation was another.

"Bullshit."

"I do!" Dani argued. "What do you think I've been setting aside part of my paychecks for this past year?"

"Yeah, but you don't want _just _that. You also want a relationship with him," her roommate said.

"When I was a kid, I'd watch my friends with siblings either protect or be protected by their siblings, basically an eternal reminder of what I could've had if he were around," she swallowed, doing her best not to choke up too much about it, "so fuck _yes_, I want a relationship with him."

"Again, if he wants nothing to do with you?"

"I'll deal with it," she waved her hand. "Are you going to stop being so pushy now and support me?"

"Oh my God…"

"Well _will_ you?"

"No, I mean, _oh my God_, look at this," Madison motioned for her to look at her laptop screen. "Miami Metro homicide just confirmed _five_ girls killed and stuffed into a barrels of…how the hell you pronounce that…"

"Formaldehyde," she finished her sentence. "Maybe we shouldn't go out tonight." Dani suddenly felt uneasy with a potential serial killer on the loose. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to go with you, anyway. Lots of chem to get through…"

"Um, _no_," she pulled her out of her chair. "If you aren't searching for your brother, you're doing _homework_. Not okay. You need to relax every once in awhile."

"I know, it's just…with a potential serial killer, I'm not sure I'm comfortable staying out that late. I don't think going out is the answer."

"Relax, we'll be fine! Besides, it seems like they only target blondes…"

After a few seconds of confusion as to why Dani would not stop staring at her, it finally clicked. "Right…well, that's why you can be my wing-woman! You can protect me and keep away from anyone who looks sketchy."

"Madison, _no_,_"_ she stood her ground. "For all you know, that serial killer could be here on this campus right now, looking for his next kill."

"I've been supporting you, going with you to interview potential private investigators for your little search," she crossed her arms. "This is the least you can do. Please?"

"Fine," Dani consented. "But I'm not drinking."

"Suit yourself," she smirked.

* * *

**Hey y'all! So this story kinda came to me when I was thinking about what Quinn's backstory in terms of family would be like, since they don't really go into it much on the show (that I've seen so far) other than that he used to be with narcotics. I absolutely love sibling fics (there are some great Dexter/Debra ones out there!), and I always wondered how Quinn would be as an older brother, hence this story. I've decided this will take place in the middle of season 5 from the moment Miami Metro first discovers the barrels (that episode with the car crash, don't remember which one that is). This is my first time attempting a Dexter fic, so please let me know how I'm doing with characterization and whatnot. Enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

Dani lightly sipped at her lemon tonic while waiting for Madison to come back from the restroom, nervously scanning the room for anyone that looked serial killer-like. None of them set off an alarm so far, but it still didn't calm her nerves.

"You know, if you're just gonna be a Debby Downer the whole night, you might as well just go. I can take a cab," Dani snapped out of her zone at the sound of Madison's voice.

"Oh hey, you're back."

"Will you _stop _looking over that shoulder already?" Madison dramatically rolled her eyes and ordered her second Screwdriver.

"Maybe I would if there wasn't a fucking _serial killer _on the loose!" Dani grumbled.

"There are a _ton _of bars in Miami for this killer to choose from," Madison smiled and thanked the bartender for her drink before taking another sip. "The odds are in our favor. Have a drink, Dani. Relax. Bartender! Bring my BFF a drink, please! It's her _birthday_! On me!"

"No, no, no, it's not my birthday, don't listen to her," the brunette quickly motioned to him, awed at the bartender completely missing the neon green wristband marking she was underage. "I'm just her driver…"

"Fine then, for me!" Madison waved her glass in the air, ignoring her roommate. "Another one, please!"

"No, you're good for now," she shook her head once again at the bartender, grabbing her friend by the wrist. "Let's dance, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Madison giggled, willingly going with her as Katy Perry's "California Gurls" came on.

Dani swayed her hips along with the music, water in one hand and Madison's hand in the other, making sure she didn't fall over. This had been a monthly tradition between them on either the first Thursday or Friday of the month, ever since their first party together; this semester they'd gotten lucky enough to get Fridays off, much to Dani's relief. She couldn't stand the thought of cramming her work on Sundays again.

"Hey Dani!" Madison interrupted her train of thought, the way she often did, drunk or sober.

"Yeah?" she yelled back over the music.

"Do you think California girls are really like that?"

_Of course you'd ask that_. "Like what?"

"Do they really wear Daisy Dukes with bikinis on top?!"

"Okay that's it, I'm cutting you off," she reached over and pried the drink from Madison's hand, becoming annoyed at her significantly lower IQ as a result of her intoxication. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, alright? You gonna be okay for like 2 seconds?"

"Yeah, go, I'll be fine," Madison giggled before waving her arms in the air. "Have fun peeing!"

Those 2 seconds turned into about twenty minutes as she followed the line for the women's room, which circled around the bar.

"Is there any other restroom besides this one?" Dani grimaced, subtly crossing her legs together.

"If there was, do you think we'd be here?" one of the girls turned around to glare.

"No," she breathed in and out, placing her hands on her hips as she scanned the crowd for her friend, whom she could still spot dancing, but this time with a significantly older guy. He appeared to be in his forties, and she could've sworn she saw a gold wedding band on his ring finger.

She proceeded to jump up and down to catch her attention, but to no avail; there were now much taller people blocking her line of sight.

"Hey, it's Madison – or Mads – sorry I missed you," Madison's voicemail greeted her. "Leave a message. Bye!"

"Mads, whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it," she warned her. "Call me when you get this, okay?"

"Are you gonna go or what? Cuz I'm starting to piss…"

Dani cringed, relieved that a stall opened up, as the girl behind her proceeded to pee on the ground, causing everyone around her to scatter in multiple directions.

Being the only sober one among a bunch of drunks had its perks, she observed. She laughed to herself as she eavesdropped on a fight that she was sure had broken out outside in line when one girl had accidentally lost her balance and another girl mistook it as her trying to cut in line.

After quickly drying her hands with what happened to be the last paper towel from the dispenser, she glanced at her phone, frustrated that Madison hadn't called back. She loved her friend, but having to look after her nearly every time they went out often got tiring.

"Hey, um," she searched for the bartender's nametag, "Pablo?"

"Ah, you!" the bartender greeted her. "What happened to your hot friend? The blonde?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could tell _me_," she scanned the crowd once again to make sure she hadn't missed her. "I just left to go to the bathroom, and when I came out she was gone. She isn't picking up her phone, and I'm afraid something might have happened to her."

"Haven't seen her," Pablo shook his head. "If she'd left through the front I woulda caught her. The pathway's been pretty clear for the past half hour or so. If she left, she probably went out back."

"Where do you think you're going?" the security guard at the back stopped her as she approached the back door.

"I'm actually on my way out, but have you seen my friend? Long, blond hair, red dress, silver shoes? She might've left with a guy…"

"Do you know how many chicks pass by here that look like that? And do that? Quit wastin' my time," the burly guard snapped, taking a bite of his donut.

"Do you know that a simple 'no' would have been just fine?"

"Alright, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave…"

"Don't have to!" Dani yelled back, stressed about finding Madison and annoyed at the security guard's lack of helpfulness.

Normally she was good at staying calm in tense situations, but her temper would often get the better of her, especially when it came to people close to her. With past experience on her side, she should've been confident that Madison would be back within a day or two, like she always had since last year, accompanied by some wild story about with her night with a hot guy or girl. But this – this was different, and she hoped against hope she was wrong and merely paranoid about the blond-targeting serial killer on the loose.

* * *

**Just a few quick notes, this does take place during season 5, but for the purposes of this story, the order and/or outcome of events might be a little different. It should be pretty clear which case will come into play here, so don't expect anything from the other one, though it might be referenced sometimes. Obviously this won't compare to the brilliant writing of the show in terms of twists and stuff, but I hope you're enjoying it anyway. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

Dani woke up to the sun shining directly in her face. She squinted at her seemingly flashing alarm clock, which turned out to be a result of her squinting at the sun. _9:30_.

She groaned at her now disrupted morning routine, having never woken up past 8:30am since before she started college.

"Coffee," she breathed as soon as she mentally put herself together. "Phone."

She slapped a hand over to her sidetable, only to knock her iPhone to the floor and fall off her bed trying to pick it up.

"Wow, I didn't even drink!" she complained to nobody in particular.

She blew a stray hair out of her face and anxiously checked her phone: still no call from Madison. Then again, it was still early. The earliest Madison ever woke up was 11:30, noon if she was spending the night somewhere. _Madison's smart_, she assured herself. _Wherever she is, she knows what she's doing_.

When Dani finally managed to get up from the floor, she trudged over to the bathroom that she and Madison shared with 2 other people in the connecting double room next door. They rarely saw them, so sharing was never an issue for the 4 of them; she wasn't even sure she knew the other 2 girls' names.

Sharing a bathroom with 3 people was a tremendous difference from sharing with all the girls on your floor; those showers were rarely peaceful, at least for her. She never forget her first communal shower, which took place in a stall between two couples having sex. How they'd managed to sneak their boyfriends in the women's showers and gotten away with breaking the "no sex in the shower stalls" policy was beyond her.

As she lathered her shampoo into her chocolate brown shoulder-length hair, she wondered what Joey's college experience was like, if he even went to college. With his stocky build, she pictured him on the football or basketball team, maybe even swimming. He was always athletic, and it was watching him play soccer when she was younger that had inspired her to play too, though she'd given it up when she got to college to focus on her studies. As for his major, she wasn't sure, but whatever he ended up doing, she hoped he was making a difference in people's lives, the way he had in hers during his little presence in her childhood.

From what she remembered, he always looked out for her and was never embarrassed to take her to the park or beach when their parents were unavailable, even when his friends would constantly tease him about choosing to spend time with her instead of go to some house party with his friends, although the latter did happen from time to time.

Danielle opened her eyes, not realizing she had briefly fallen asleep in the shower and was on the verge of losing her balance.

"Shit," she quickly grabbed ahold of the shower handle before she could seriously hurt herself. While her body was physically in the shower as she scrubbed her body with her strawberry citrus body scrub, her mind was elsewhere.

She was so lost in her thoughts – the way she often became when things started to eat at her – that when she'd run from the bathroom to answer what sounded like an urgent knock at the door, she'd completely forgotten that she was still in her bathrobe. "Can I help you?"

"Is there a Madison Murphy that lives here?"

"What is this about?" she demanded, not in the mood to deal with people after last night's fiasco. "And who the fuck are you?"

"Sergeant Batista and Detective Morgan. Miami Metro homicide," the man patiently showed her his badge.

"_That's _who the fuck we are," the tall, slender woman crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry," she smiled nervously. "I'm just so used to seeing cops in uniforms. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually you can," Debra Morgan was the first to answer. "Madison Murphy. Where is she?"

"Can I get dressed first?" the college-aged girl glanced down at her bathrobe.

"Take your time," Batista nodded, nonverbally motioning for Deb to back off as Dani let them in.

"I don't like her already," Deb murmured as she took a seat at Dani's desk.

"Maybe it was a bad morning. Let's reserve judgment for _after_ we've talked to her, alright?" the Cuban sergeant said. "This is the only lead we have right now."

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. This girl was very neat, she observed: clean, minimalist décor; a very spacious desktop (Deb could barely see the top of hers); and a neatly made bed when it wasn't even 10am. She only kept 2 pictures on her desk, clipped side by side on picture clamps, but one in particular caught her eye. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn't quite place a finger on it. Her nagging curiosity got the better of her as she carefully took it off the clamp, running her fingers over the two people in the picture. They appeared to be at some sort of dance recital, probably after the show. Deb smiled, reminiscing on her own childhood days, when she hadn't lasted a month in dance classes.

As she examined the picture more closely, a sudden wave of realization hit her. She'd seen those cheekbones before. In fact, she saw them every day, along with those blue eyes, brown hair, wide smile, and the unmistakable dimples that came with it…

"Oh my fucking God," she gasped, dropping the picture.

"What is it?" Batista asked, concerned.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Don't touch that!" Deb jumped as Dani quickly rushed over her desk and snatched the picture from her hands.

"Sorry," Deb replied. "It was a cute picture." _Really, Deb? A cute fucking picture? _She scolded herself.

"It's more than just that," she murmured, taking a deep breath to keep her temper in check. "So what can I help you with?"

"When was the last time you saw Madison?" the sergeant asked.

"Last night," the University of Miami student answered easily. "We drove out to Miami and went to a bar."

"You're underage," Deb pointed out. "How did they let you in? Fake ID?"

"No, they gave me a wristband," she held up a crumpled neon green strip on her desk. "I didn't drink, I was just her driver."

"Do you know where she is now?"

"She probably went home with that guy she was dancing with," Dani answered honestly Had her worst fears come true? Did something happen to her? "With all due respect, where are you going with this?"

"We found her blood at the same crime scene on the same bed where those girls in the barrels were raped and murdered," Batista cut in.

"Oh, my God," Dani blinked rapidly. _I shouldn't have let her go out last night_.

"We're still processing any evidence we found," Deb added. "so nothing's final, but according to our blood guy, we'd literally just missed her. Someone knocked her out and dragged her out of the room _minutes _before we got there."

"You said she might've gone home with a guy," the detective pressed on. "Did you get a good look at him?"

"I couldn't see his face too well," she shook her head once more. "Only his backside. Tall, early 40s, white, heavyset…the only other thing I remember is a tan line where he would've been wearing a ring on his left hand."

"Not a whole lot to go on, but that's a start. If anything happens, you'll give us a call?" Batista handed her his card.

"Yeah of course," she breathed.

"What did you say your name was again?" Deb suddenly cut in.

"Danielle," Dani replied, using her full name the way she always did with unfamiliar people.

"Danielle, thank you for your cooperation," he nodded as Dani held the door open for them. "I know this must've been difficult news for you."

_Wouldn't be the first time someone's left me_, she wanted to reply, but bit her tongue. There was no need to get more people involved than there needed to be. As she closed the door, she let out a heavy sigh and slid down to the floor, hands on either side of her head and chin resting on her knees.

"Sheesh, Madison, what the fuck did you get yourself into?"

* * *

**Thanks for the follows/reviews/favorites, y'all! And to the person asking if there will be Quinn/Debra romance, I have 3 words for you: wait for it. I can say, though, that Deb in general will play a fairly big part in the story. It wasn't my original plan, but as I'm writing it, it's looking more and more that way, so you can imagine what will naturally unfold. Thank you so much for reading! **


	5. Chapter 4

**Same disclaimers apply!**

* * *

Debra Morgan replayed her moment with Danielle's picture over and over again, unsure of how to deal with her new discovery. Did Quinn really have a sister? Why would he keep something like that from her? He knew about Dexter and how she didn't consider him anything less than family even if he wasn't biologically related to her; for fuck's sake, she even opened up about her parents' deaths to him! She risked opening up closed wounds to show him he was important to her, yet he never mentioned anything about having a sister? Now that she thought about it, in the months they'd been fucking, she knew absolutely nothing about his family. Up until the day of that interview with Danielle, she wasn't sure he even _had_ any family, other than the uncle who'd given him his apartment.

_Beep, beep, beep_.

_Hey, just checkin up on you. Call me when you get this. –Quinn. _Another goddamn text! That was the third one today. "Jesus, Mary, mother of _fuck_, what part of 'I don't want to talk about it' do you not understand?!"

"Deb?"

She sighed in relief, thankful that if anyone were to catch her being a crazy shit-tard yelling at her phone in the middle of the department, it was her brother.

"You really need to stop doing that."

"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring her previous words.

"Of course I am," she attempted to lie, but he saw through it, like he always did.

"Okay," he shrugged, heading back to the lab.

That always got her. His seeming nonchalance that followed an expression of concern was reverse psychology at its best, even if Dexter was seemingly unaware aware of it.

"Can we talk?" she followed him to his lab, closing the door and standing against it.

"Can it wait? I'm kinda strapped here…"

"No, it can't _fucking wait_," she moved to stand in front of his monitor. "I'm about to _lose it _here..."

"Deb…"

"Have you ever found out something about someone that you didn't mean to find out …?" she decided to start. _Ha! Now you _have _to talk to me_.

"Like what?" he asked impatiently, glancing anxiously at the monitor and back at his sister.

"Something that they didn't necessarily lie about, but kinda changes the way you look at them?"

"Deb, I don't have time for this, LaGuerta wants a report on her desk in less than an hour," he groaned. _And_ _I need to find Madison Murphy before Miami Metro does. She could be the key to finding the other four men Lumen talked about. _"Why don't you ask Quinn?"

"Because it's about_ him_!" she cried, bringing both hands to her head.

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows. "Good or bad?"

"Quinn has a little sister," she blurted out before she could build up to it. God that felt good to get off her chest. She'd been avoiding Quinn, unable to face him with her newfound knowledge. What was so bad about his sister that he couldn't even mention her?

"Really?" Dexter was genuinely surprised, and that didn't happen often. Aside from the few times he'd stumble upon something unexpected about his potential kill victims and the day he'd come home to Rita having been murdered in the bathtub, Dexter Morgan was a difficult person to shock.

"That girl Batista and I interviewed after we found Madison's blood at Boyd Fowler's house," she reminded him. When Dexter greeted her with a blank look, she waved her hand slightly. "Madison's roommate?"

"Right," he nodded, remembering.

"While Batista and I were waiting for her, I saw this picture on her desk. It was this picture of her from when she was little, and Quinn was in it. He must have been – shit, I don't know – eighteen? Nineteen?"

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Fuck, Dex, if I knew, would I be standing here?" she answered incredulously.

"You'll figure it out. You always do," he assured her. "But I'd try the direct approach."

"You're right," she exhaled. "No better way to do it. Thanks, bro. I'll stop bothering you now." She patted him on the shoulder with a smile, satisfied with her brother's advice. Now she had to actually do it.

* * *

The drive to Quinn's apartment was the most agonizing ten minutes she'd ever spent behind the wheel, and with all the stressful cases she'd worked on, that was saying something. She knew in her heart it was true, but she had to hear it from him. It was a tricky situation, she knew, but his reason for keeping something as mundane as having a sibling a secret had better be damn good.

The closer she got to his apartment, the more her legs suddenly stiffened, as though they were fighting tooth and nail for her to _not _go to his apartment. She'd learned in the past that some things were better off left alone; case in point when she'd discovered that the Ice Truck Killer was Dexter's biological brother (as if that event wasn't traumatizing enough already). But as much as she hated to admit, she cared about Quinn, and she certainly wasn't about to let this one go. _Direct approach, _she mentally repeated her brother's advice as she hesitantly knocked on his door. _Direct fucking approach. Just like Dexter said._

"Deb," Joey Quinn greeted her, temporarily surprised before he leaned in to kiss her, which she resisted, much to his disappointment.

"Can I come in?" she took a slightly step back, avoiding his gaze.

"Ya don't have to ask," he held the door open for her, puzzled by her slow, deliberate movements. Was she mad at him? Was it something he'd said?

Quinn watched confusedly as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet with her arms crossed, as though she were…nervous. But there wasn't anything to be nervous about, he thought, so what was it?

"Are ya gonna say somethin', or are ya just gonna stand there?" That came out harsher than he'd intended, but he'd just kicked Stan Liddy out of his apartment after he'd pushed him too far, and he was in no patient mood. She had avoided him for two weeks for reasons he couldn't fathom, not answering her phone, and not even returning his texts. To top it all off, the moment she _did _finally show up, she couldn't say anything. Debra Morgan was one confusing woman, yet somehow he was falling head over heels for her.

After a few seconds, she stopped bouncing, but still didn't answer.

"Hey. Deb, talk to me," he went over and gently stroked her face. "You know you can talk to me. What's goin' on?"

_Come on, Deb, _she thought fiercely. _The moment of truth. Just cut to it. Be direct. _After several deep breaths, she finally pulled herself together. "In the fuck ton of time we've spent together," she began slowly, "after I've pushed myself so damn hard to open up to you, you couldn't tell me _once _that you have a sister. And I want to know why."

* * *

**And I present to you, Quinn's first present-day appearance! And the first chapter mostly from Deb's point of view! I hope I did her justice; she's by far my favorite _Dexter_ character (aside from Dexter himself of course)! Sorry, no steamy Quinn/Debra scene yet; I felt this was necessary first. I've had several situations in mind as to how the subject of Quinn having a sister comes up, and after the last chapter, this one seemed the most fitting. This chapter and the next are actually one big chapter that I split into two because I didn't want to make it too long, so you should see the next one very soon. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Same disclaimers apply! **

* * *

"Danielle. That's her name, right?"

Joey Quinn's hand quickly dropped from Deb's face as his own face turned pale. "You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"That girl Batista and I interviewed," she stood her ground. "She had a picture of you on her desk from when she was a little kid."

"How'd you know it was me?" It couldn't possibly be her. What were the odds? Of all the places in the U.S. she could be at right now, what were the odds of the two of them ending up in the same city? When he'd told her before that he was going someplace far, he was telling the truth. But never in a million years would he have pictured himself where he was. If he believed in fate, he would've dared say the stars aligned one night when his uncle (from whom he inherited his current apartment) came into town for a visit while he was living in his crappy apartment with rent that cost him half his paychecks, telling him how Miami Metro could use more efficient, dedicated cops. Quinn hadn't thought it through at the time, but as far as he was concerned, it couldn't be worse than his current situation, so he seized the opportunity.

"You might've grown fatter, thinner, tanner, everything in between, but your eyes haven't changed a bit. And neither has your smile. What's the big deal?" Deb let out a disbelieving laugh when Quinn's face suddenly turned angry. "Lots of people have siblings, it's nothing new…"

"Deb, stop…"

"Besides," a surge of confidence spread through her. It felt good confronting someone not in an interrogation room. "It's not like I looked into your file! It was a coincidence. A _pure, fucking coincidence._ What, did you not get along or something? 'Cause that's nothing new, either…"

"_Drop it_, Deb!" he roared, kicking his couch in frustration to avoid shoving her the way he'd accidentally shoved his mother. He took a deep breath to calm himself. _I'm not gonna lose it_, he mentally chanted. _I'm not gonna lose it the way Dad did…I am not my father…I am not my father…I am not my…_

"You're not your what? What's going on?" Deb had seen her father angry many times, and she'd seen Dexter angry on a few occasions as well, mostly when he and her father were arguing. Tempers were nothing out of the ordinary, but in that moment, she sincerely felt that Joey Quinn was about to beat the living shit out of her. She'd never seen him get so angry…over his sister, no less. What could a girl at least ten years younger than him possibly have done to agitate him at the mere mention of her?

"Jesus fucking _Christ_, I said that out loud," he groaned, plopping on his couch and bringing a pillow to his face.

Deb pried away the pillow, moved his legs to the floor and sat next to him. She'd never been the best with confrontation, often running away instead of facing it head on. She had no problem calling people out on their bullshit, but when she was the one being called out, it was different. Her defenses would go all the way up in full blast, and it didn't always end well for one or both parties. It was also probably why she and Quinn had gotten along so well. Instead of working through an argument, they'd just fuck, since neither of them wanted to deal with the emotions that came with it. But this time, she wanted to work through it because – as much as she hated to admit it – he was growing on her as more than just a friend-slash-coworker-slash-fuck buddy. And as far as she was concerned, from that moment on, she was going to do whatever it took to work through it and make him do the same.

"I'm sorry," she began. She saw nothing wrong with the way she confronted him about his sister, but it was obviously a sensitive topic for some reason, and if she was going to find out the truth, she'd have to put aside her own stubbornness for the time being.

Quinn didn't answer, though he did shift his focus onto her as she went on, "I probably could've worded that a little better. You know how I kinda suck at talking to people sometimes, right?"

She could've sworn she saw a small nod and a barely-there smile as she went on.

"I meant what I said, though. I don't understand why it's such a big deal for you to you to talk about your sister, but I want to. It's just, for me personally," she leaned forward, placing her chin on her hands, "the fact that Dexter was adopted doesn't make him any less of a brother to me. I can't imagine my life without him. I've told you this before, but really, I can't. Yeah, he can be real fucktard sometimes. But he always listens, and he always believes in me, even when I don't believe in myself. I guess that's why I can't imagine how you could just live like she doesn't _exist_, or something."

He sighed. He hoped he'd never have to talk about his family background again, but if he and Deb were going to take things to the next level, the conversation was inevitable. "I should warn you, what I'm about to tell ya, it ain't pretty."

"Obviously not," Deb agreed, "if you kept it to yourself this whole time."

"Ya might hate me a little," he added.

"I want to understand," she sat up more attentively. "I'm all ears, Quinn. Give it all you've got."

_You asked for it_, he mentally answered her, _so you're gonna get it. All of it. _"I was a bastard kid."

"What?" Deb turned to face him as he sat up, closing the small gap between them.

"My mom was eighteen, almost nineteen, when she had me," he quickly clarified. "My dad was twenty-three. My mom, she was a fuckin' _mess_. Sex, drugs, partyin', drinkin', the works. They went home together one night after she stumbled out of a bar – she hardly remembers what happens next – and a couple weeks later, she's pregnant."

"What does this have to do with…"

"Just wait," he laughed dryly. "My dad didn't want me, wanted nothing to _do_ with me. He tried to force her to get an abortion, but she wouldn't have it. Pregnancy changed her. They got married, had a small wedding when I was two. I stayed with my grandparents during their honeymoon. It ended up working out alright…for a few years, anyway."

"You're not avoiding the question about your sister, are you?"

"Ya wanted to _understand_, didn't you?" he snapped. "When I was seven, I was playing with this remote control truck I got from my grandparents – his parents, actually – and accidentally ran into my dad's alcohol cabinet. I ended up breaking this really expensive bottle of scotch that was right on top of it near the edge. That was the first time he ever beat me."

"Joey…" That explained a lot about him, she realized. His random bouts of roughness, his short temper, and his trouble with emotions – who knew they were all a result of a fucked-up childhood?

"Thought maybe that was a one-time thing, but it wasn't. Anytime he didn't get he wanted – if he lost a bet, the Yankees lost a game, stupid shit like that – I'd receive either a punch in the gut or a whipping from his belt, from the side with the belt buckle, too. And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part – get this – is that my mom just stood there. She _stood there_ like _nothin' fuckin' happened_! She never believed that my dad could be anything but a good, kind man."

Deb pursed her lips. She hadn't expected Quinn to tell her his life story; she only wanted to understand why his sister was so difficult to talk about. It was a simple enough question. But then again, with him things were anything but simple. She couldn't even tell where she stood with him sometimes. "Wow. I…I didn't know."

"'Course ya didn't," he brushed her off. "When my mom got pregnant with Dani, it was the first time I'd seen my dad happy in awhile. My sister was his pride and joy, if you will. Everything I wasn't."

"So you were jealous?"

"Fuck _yeah_, I was," he scoffed. "I was just the bastard kid who came into the world thanks to my mom gettin' a little too fucked up one night. Dani was the kid my parents actually wanted. No," he corrected himself, "the one they _always _wanted. But I loved her anyway. She was a sweet kid. Real smart, too. Somehow she'd always know when I was pissed, and she'd come 'round and give me hug to try and make me feel better. I promised myself I'd never let anything happen to her."

"Made it real difficult for me to leave when I did," he brought his head to his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. "By far the _worst_ _fuckin'_ _day_ of my life."

"Go on," Deb sat patiently, which Quinn knew was uncharacteristic of her. She was usually an impatient, exploding ball of emotion, but she was holding herself together surprisingly well.

"The night before I left," he wasn't ready to talk about his last unfortunate memory with his mother _just _yet, "Mom made it clear to me that she wouldn't go up against Dad, so I packed a duffel without a second thought. I didn't even listen to what she had to say. As far as I was concerned, I was done. With _everyone's _bullshit_!" _he wasn't sure why he'd yelled the way he did, but Deb figured it was a buildup of past emotion catching up with him.

"I was gonna leave first thing next morning, but I remembered I'd promised Dani I'd walk her to school for her first day," Quinn suddenly got the most emotional she'd seen him in all the time she'd spent with him, "so I told her I was goin' away on a trip. That I didn't know when I was comin' back, even when I knew I never was."

"Seeing my little sister cry like that," he swallowed. "It broke my heart. You have _no fucking idea_. I still remember how she held onto me that day…she cried because she didn't want me to go. I cried because I _had _to go."

Mary, mother of _fuck_. Deb pursed her lips together, resisting the urge to tear up a little. She instantly regretted how harsh she'd been earlier; obviously she didn't know him as well as she thought. He'd warned her before that he came with a lot of baggage, but she never took him seriously, mainly because he'd revealed that under the influence of one too many shots of tequila.

"So…hate me yet?"

She looked up with a start. "Surprisingly…no."

"No?" he raised his eyebrows. He'd just revealed how he'd left behind the one person in his family he love and cared about the most, leaving her hanging with the expectation that he would eventually come back, and Debra Morgan still didn't hate him? She was definitely a keeper.

"Don't get me wrong," she held up her hands. "I'm still trying to process this shit. _Your _shit. Oh, _fuck _me." She dug her nails deep into her scalp, letting out a deep breath.

"Deb?" Quinn asked, "Ya know you asked for it…" he stammered nervously, suddenly afraid he'd made a mistake opening up to her. _Poor choice of words_, he chastised himself. _Good goin', buddy._

"I gotta go," she hastily grabbed her purse from the foot of the couch. When he leaned in to kiss her, she quickly turned so that his lips landed on her cheek instead of her lips.

"Wait," he grabbed her forearm before she left.

"Quinn," she tried to shove him off, but he subtly tightened his grip. "I told you, I have to…"

"How is she?" he couldn't help but ask.

"The fuck if I know," she shrugged. "I only went to talk to her about the missing girl-slash-potential-victim."

"Deb…" She stopped for a minute to look into his eyes – to _really _look into them. Where before she'd see someone who was really damn good in bed and also happened to care about her, now she saw a face full of regret, pain, and sorrow.

"When she caught me looking at that picture I told you about, I could see it in her eyes," she relented. Dani hadn't openly said so, but Deb had an instinctive knack for those things. "She misses you."

She reached into her pocket for a now-crumpled slip of paper and pressed it into his hands. "You're welcome."

Before Quinn could ask what it was, he opened it to find his sister's University of Miami residential address, email address, and cell phone number. It had been fourteen long years since he'd seen her, but he never went a day without being reminded of her in some way. He could only hope she did the same.

* * *

**Sorry this took a little longer to post than I thought! It ended up being much longer than I anticipated. There were a few scenarios I considered, but I'd just finished the second to last episode of season 2 of The Walking Dead as I was writing this (personally, it was my favorite episode I've seen so far). Anything I felt while watching that episode kinda carried over into the tone for this chapter, so if you were wondering why I chose this particular route, you can blame that. As always, thanks for reading, y'all! **


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